


Mutual Domesticity

by wardenmages



Series: Pariahs [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:53:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7069603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wardenmages/pseuds/wardenmages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even when the world was ending, there was time for a little fun. Domestic fluff in before and after Corypheus is defeated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutual Domesticity

“Do you have any siblings?” Dorian asked one morning. He was pacing the room - stark naked, of course, but Connor could hardly judge him for that, considering his similar condition still in the bed - in a way that almost looked purposeful. If one wasn’t paying attention, anyhow.

“No. I was the entirety of my parents’ hopes and dreams until my magic showed.”

“No cousins?”

“Two kings,” he snorted. “I’m the normal one, for once.”

Dorian laughed and turned back to the bed. “My family was much the same. Besides the kings, of course.”

“Why do you ask?”

Dorian’s expression went innocently blank. “I wanted to know more about you. You don’t talk about yourself much.”

“Not much to say that people don’t already know,” he said carefully.

“That’s never stopped me.”

It was in the same teasing tone that Dorian always flirted with, but Connor wasn’t  _ stupid. _

“Questions about my family tend to lead to questions about Redcliffe,” he said softly. “I trust you. Old habits die hard.”

“I can understand that.”

Dorian sat back down on the bed, pointedly not making eye contact. “Does your family know about me? Us?”

“Some do. I told my aunt and uncle, and Alistair.”

“Your parents?”

There it was. “I haven’t talked to them since I was taken to the Circle,” he mumbled. They had been embarrassed of having a mage for a son, his mother especially, and for all their talk of loving him they had abandoned him.

He knew why. That didn’t make it better.

“I could write to them now. I should, for your sake if anything,” he offered.

“You don’t have to-”

“-I want to. I don’t want you to ever feel like I’m hiding you.”

The mask fell away into a smile as he finally looked at Connor. “Thank you.”

He sat up and wrapped his arms around Dorian’s shoulders, planting a kiss at the space below his ear. Then, before Dorian could react, he dropped back, pulling Dorian down with him onto the sheets as Dorian swore. He laughed as Dorian pushed himself up on his elbows to glare down at Connor.

“You could have just  _ asked! _ ”

“You’re handsome when you’re all ruffled up,” he teased. “Like a peacock.”

Dorian huffed dramatically and dropped back down onto the bed. “Maker’s  _ breath. _ ”

“I love you.”

After a moment of quiet that felt incredibly, amazingly  _ long _ , Dorian rolled over to kiss him.

“What am I going to do with you, amatus?”

He grinned. “I’m sure I could give some suggestions.”

“I’ll  _ bet. _ ”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Five years later, the world was breaking open again. Lavellan had not called on Dorian through the sending crystal in months, and many of their friends had stopped writing back. Something had changed in the air, though no one could name what it was.

Their lives in Tevinter hadn’t exactly been peaceful, but it had been  _ good. _ Despite any concerns Dorian may have had about bringing a charmingly honest and open Fereldan to the Imperium of all places, Connor had maneuvered the magisterium with ease. He was raised as a politician, even if he hadn’t been able to practice it in his own homeland.

He hadn’t slept much the past months. Dorian tried not to worry; Connor had always been sensitive to the Fade, but it had never been that bad. He slept a few short hours, often only while Dorian was awake.

Something was changing and Dorian didn't know what it was but he’ll be  _ damned _ if he lets it take Connor away from him.

He smoothed out the creases of a paper that had mysteriously appeared on the desk of his study one day. The servants all denied responsibility, and claimed that had not seen who actually left it.

_ The wolf is moving. Towards you first. Getting people hurt. Watch your dreams. More info soon. _

There was a small seal with no heraldry at the bottom of the letter in red wax, but no name. That only left Sera or Lavellan, or both of them.  _ Venhedis, _ what was he supposed to do with that? Wait and hope they actually  _ found _ more information?

“Dorian?”

He startled and turned to the door separating the bedroom and the study. Connor stretched his arms over his head as he wandered in, his face still cloudy from sleep.

“Come to bed.”

Dorian laughed. “It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Come to bed  _ please. _ ”

“Some of us have important magister duties. Letters to write, letters to ignore, puppies to kick.”

Suddenly there were arms around his shoulders and an unshaven face scratching his cheek. He let out a big sigh and leaned into the embrace. 

“What’s this?” Connor asked, pulling the note on the desk closer.

_ Vishante kaffas. _ “I think it’s from our lovely Jennies.”

“Dreams?” He dropped his chin to Dorian’s shoulder. “We could ask Feynriel. He’s still with Maevaris, right?”

Dorian hummed in thought. “I suppose. It might be better to wait for more word so he knows what to look for.”

“Never a dull moment,” Connor mumbled.

“It doesn’t matter.” Dorian pried Connor’s arms away enough to stand, still caught in the embrace. “I won’t let anyone take you from me,” he promised.

Connor smiled. “I know.”

He moved around to properly kiss Dorian, soft and tender where Dorian would always be sharp and passionate. Dorian leaned into for a moment - not long enough - and then gave a gentle shove towards the bedroom.

“Go on then. You’ve won,” he sighed.

“Not in all those buckles I haven’t. Maker knows why all of your clothes have fifty of them.”

“They’re not  _ all  _ for utility. It’s  _ fashion _ .”

“Is it now.”

“Yes, you Fereldan savage.”

“ _ Savage _ is a new one.”

Dorian pushed him again, onto the bed, and Connor pulled him down with him.

“You’re handsome when you’re ruffled,” Connor teased. Dorian rolled his eyes.

“I’m  _ always _ handsome, amatus.”

“Yes you are,” he said, leaning in to kiss Dorian again. “And you’re mine.”

“I am yours.”

Even if it did not last forever, it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2! I sort of followed the prompt. They are being domestic, sort of.
> 
> I have a tumblr! My url is connorguerrin.


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